Two for Tea
by sisypheandreamer
Summary: It's time for tea and The Doctor takes Clara to see the largest tea shop in the universe! Only, is it just them but do these tea connoisseurs seem to like their cuppa more than the usual?
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY:** It's time for tea and The Doctor takes Clara to see the largest tea shop in the universe! Only, is it just them but do these tea connoisseurs seem to like their cuppa more than the usual?

**CHARACTERS INVOLVED:** The Doctor (Eleventh Incarnation) & Clara Oswald

**RATING:** K+

TWO FOR TEA

X X X

"Doctor?"

She came up from behind him. He was busy wiping the surfaces of the TARDIS console, trying to soothe her. The old girl was feeling a bit down again – he could always tell. Even her lights seemed dimmer.

"Doctor?" she repeated, her voice still a bit groggy from sleep.

"Ey?"

Clara rubbed her eyes and looked up at him – there really was no other way to look at him but up. She stifled a yawn and covered mouth. Even her usually tidy hair was a bit astray, obviously just having woken up from a nap. In over a thousand years of travelling, The Doctor had never stopped to see what the Sun looked like when it was peeking up for a new day. Some humans swore by it to be the most beautiful thing they've ever seen – the soft diffused rays of light, creeping up to touch them and bid them good morning. He's seen hundreds and thousands and hundreds of thousands of days go by but never its start and never its end.

Seeing Clara like this – fresh from such a simple thing such as a nap – he could finally understand what it's like to watch the Sun rise.

"Had a bit of a nap then, ey?" He said with a big toothy grin. She smiled back, turned around, and rested her elbows on the console. She threw her head back and took a breath, like she was stretching. She peeked at him from one eye and saw that he was staring at her. Again. He seemed to rub his hands together and perked up as if an idea had occurred to him. He did the twirl he liked to do and started flipping switches on the console. Clara followed him.

"Don't you ever sleep, Doctor?"

"Oh, sleep? Hardly. Sleep is for wimps who can't travel in time and space!"

Clara slapped his arm playfully to which The Doctor let out a typical "Yow!" and went to polishing the TARDIS again.

"What time is it, then?"

"It's a time machine, Clara. Any time's all the time and at no time at all."

"So how long was I asleep?"

_Four hours and three minutes_. "Dunno!" He clapped his hands once and rubbed them, he raised his eyebrows at her, his eyes wide, and donned a smile just about as goofy as his chin. "So! All of time and space, Ms. Oswald, what do you want to see next?"

This was his favourite part to watch – the moment her pupils dilate and she stands up a little straighter. He could practically hear her mind – a hundred mini-Claras just running around with paperwork and phone calls to other mini-Claras, trying to decide what it was they wanted to see and where she wanted to go, in the whole wide universe and in all of time that ever was and ever will be. She bit her lip and he counted the heartbeats it took for her answer.

But this was something new – her eyes looked down and her shoulders curved in. She turned away from him and looked at the console, the mechanism going up and down as it usually did. She swallowed before she spoke and when she spoke, it was in a small voice.

"Could you take me back to see my mum?"

He clapped his hands excitedly, his pointer finger rose to point at the ceiling. His mouth was already poised to say "GERONIMO!" but his finger knelt back into his hand and his smile vanished. "Oh."

She let out the breath she was holding and rubbed at her eye, catching the threatening tears before they even came. "Thought as much."

She smiled a little sad smile at him and he didn't quite know what to say to that. He wanted to make her happy and show her everything she wanted to see – but sometimes the universe doesn't work that way and sometimes there are places he can't go to and times he can't go back on, no matter how much he wished his could. If he could do everything that he wanted, the universe would be dead.

_Your girlfriend isn't more important than the whole universe_, he remembered saying to a lone Roman centurion once. Never did he think he would have to say it to himself. Not that he thought Clara was his girlfriend or anything. No, that would be silly. Unheard of. Preposterous. And yet…

"Sorry," she continued. "Couldn't help but ask. It's okay, though. I understand. Paradoxes and all that science-y stuff, right?"

"Yeah," he said. His head was bowed, still rubbing his hands together. "It's all very science-y."

"My mum always a made me cup'a tea after I woke up from a nap when I was a kid." Clara's lips twitched to a sad smile as she gazed at the console with downcast eyes. "She would pair it up with a pastry of some sort. Macarons, jammie dodgers, shortbread, crunchy honeycomb, _homemade jaffa cakes_!" Clara even turned and pointed at the Doctor in delight. She looked so happy and so sad all at once, so excited and yet so close to crying but she wouldn't.

"If it was a really bad day, she'd make soufflés." Clara closed her eyes dreamily then. "Mmm. I love soufflés."

The Doctor cupped her cheek with his hand at that moment, his thumb lightly brushing at her skin. She looked him in the eye, his flaring excitement contagious, and she let out a giggle. "Tea, jammie dodgers, and soufflés? I know exactly where to go!"

He danced around the TARDIS console, turned and toggled and switched on some switches. He pulled some levers and pressed some buttons and the same, glorious sound filled the air as the floor beneath Clara shuddered. She hung on and looked up at the light, preparing for what she knew was another day with the Doctor.

X X X

It was a space station - a special space station that specialised in _tea_.

There were aliens and humans and humanoids and cyborgs all about, talking peculiarly with various British accents and Clara grinned and giggled at all of it. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of it – the travelling, the new worlds, the never ending time jumping. The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, hands in his pockets, a smug smile on his stupid face. He whispered in her ear, "D'you like it?"

"Look at you, swaggering about like you own the place," she teased.

"I do! Well… I will. We- I mean, I did. I'm-" His face puffed up and his mouth all scrunched up in a bizarre "o". Clara laughed and poked both his cheeks, to which he made a sound like balloons deflating.

"So… where _are_ we?"

"We're in Space Station Four. This," he said, gesturing wildly as he was wont to do. "My dear Clara, is the largest tea shop in the universe. Three hundred and… Fifty? Sixty? … floors, all dedicated to tea. They've got teacups and strainers and blends and teapots that sing and check your temperature! They've got brews and blends from the beginning of time of every planet in every galaxy in the known universe. It is the year 2502, just in the middle of the First Great and Bountiful Human Empire. Otherwise known as the Earth Empire. Humans have already begun to branch into the universe, exploring things just because they're there, exporting goods like bananas and tennis shoes and candle wax and tea, exchanging technology and history with life they didn't even believe in a few thousand years back. Humans - all getting and taking and receiving and growing and living and breathing and loving and never, ever stopping – I love ya."

He was looking at her when he said that and she quirked up her eyebrows at him. He blushed and straightened his bowtie. "Shut up!"

"And you said this space station specialised in tea? Why tea?"

He looked at her like the answer was obvious. "Everyone deserves tea, Clara," he stated simply. "Everyone in the universe."

He booped her nose, took her hand, and led her away. He led her to the main tea room on the floor. The room was lit brightly – a dazzlingly beautiful chandelier hung up on the ceiling, made of different coloured crystals that bounced different shades of colours all around the room. Still, the room retained a mixed tinge of yellows and oranges but the ceiling looked like a dozen rainbows with soft hues exploding all at once. It felt like a land made of Summer with a sky made of Spring.

There were people huddled all around them, quiet as ever. No one looked away from their respective cups and pots and everyone seemed to only want more and drink more and have more of their own blends. No one looked away from the piping hot drinks, which The Doctor chose to ignore for the moment, but it was quite odd. The place was so colourful and bright and yet the people who were there seemed blank and dreary. Perhaps it was of no import. Perhaps they were like people of the Victorian age, whose temperament was dictated by the temperature. Otherwise, it seemed harmless enough.

There was a long bar at the very middle of the throng, with a bar keep who was sprucing up teacups instead of shot glasses. The Doctor immediately ran to the stools and spun on the spot.

"Ooooh, spinny stools! Woo! I love spinny stools! I should have a spinny stool in the TARDIS! I mean, I probably do… somewhere. Spinny stools, man. Spinny stools are cool."

"Really?" Clara teased. She got on the stool next to him with just a little bit of difficulty – being rather petite did have its disadvantages. To her defence, the stool was rather high. Still, she couldn't help but twist and turn once she was finally seated. Her feet barely grazed the round steel railing at the bottom of the stool. The Doctor grinned and twisted and turned ever so slightly with her. Clara laughed and bumped her shoulder at him.

The bar keep was not impressed, however. "Are you _quite_ done?"

The Doctor didn't miss a beat, his grin still plastered on his face, unfazed. "Ah, yes, hello! I'm The Doctor and this is Clara and we're from Health and Safety." The Doctor whipped out his psychic paper and flashed the credentials to the man's face long enough for him to just barely skim at the supposed credentials. "Routine checks, we'll be having whatever delights us, thank you!"

They were both given a rather thick booklet each – the menu of just the first fifty floors within range – and The Doctor gave Clara a smirk, but she wasn't looking. She was already poring into the menu and what was available to them.

"Look at that – Writers' Block," she pointed out. "Blends and suggested pastries fashioned after famous writers of the Earth, that's awesome!"

He only smiled at her apparently delight, looking over her shoulder to see what she was reading and the blends that made her smile. "The Agatha Christie – authentic oriental flavours with just a hint of pepper. The Rowling Specials – Butterbeer and firewhiskey tea with lemon drops and pumpkin pasties. The American Gaiman with vegetarian haggis… Does Britain take over the whole universe?"

"In a matter of speaking, I suppose," he said, picking up a saltshaker and shaking the contents to his hand. He licks his palm and shakes his head in disgust, tongue out and all. "Not salt."

"Oh, look! They have an Amelia Williams Special!"

The Doctor froze and turned to Clara. "What did you say?"

"A special blend inspired by Amelia Williams. The writer? I loved her books. Only the bluest blueberries are used, apparently. Best paired with the writer's own choice… fish fingers… and _custard_? That's a bit weird."

"Oi, don't knock it 'til you've tried it!" _Oh, Amelia. Mad, impossible Amelia Pond. I miss you. _He was smiling at the special blend inspired by her and before he knew it, he felt those same humany wumany tears from a few Christmases ago. The last Christmas with the Ponds.

"Doctor?" Clara came back into his vision. She snapped her fingers at his face to knock him away from his thoughts. Her voice wasn't of reproach, though. It was gentle. "You okay?"

"What? Oh, yes. Fine. Marvellous. Refulgent!" He said, smiling his sadness away.

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know – I say stuff."

"It sounds familiar.

"It would," he said, kissing his fingers then patting the top of her head. He concentrated on the menu just then – or looked like it. Clara gave him that look-over he'd known so well. Sometimes, she'd push and push at his buttons until he gave in and gave her what she wanted but sometimes, she'd know when to stop pushing. And he loved her for that.

"Are there are bunch of alien teas here, then?"

"Oh yes, blimey! There's the Tears of Cheem – a special blend made out of very special trees in the Forest of Cheem. Living, sentient, talking trees and when the tears of the Mother Trees are put into blend… oh, bliss! Well… there's the tinge of sadness that goes with it but's a lovely brew."

"What will you have then, sir? Ma'am?"

The perpetually unhappy bar keep had returned, his tired eyes focused on Clara. She looked to The Doctor and to the menu and to the bar keep, confused and just a teeny bit excited. She pointed to The Doctor.

"Two special blends of the day, then, my good man with an order of twelve jammie dodgers, fish fingers and custard, and… a strawberry soufflé. And a red Stetson… and a fez."

"A fez?" Clara asked when the bar keep had left.

"What? Fezzes are cool."

"Yeah, about as cool as your bowtie," she replied, sarcasm dripping in her tone. But The Doctor must have missed the sarcasm and he gave her a big, open-mouthed smile.

"Yes! Finally, someone of taste!"

Clara chortled and shook her head, leaving The Doctor positively beaming while twisting on his spinny stool.

"How'd you know I liked strawberry soufflés?" she piped up suddenly. "I never said."

"Well, it was obvious enough! Your favourite colour's red, you thought time was made of strawberries."

"I didn't say time was made of strawberries!"

"All the same. It was a guess, I guess. A good guess, I'm guessing?" Clara giggled.

"Yeah, it was. My mum baked all sorts of things. She taught me how, actually. But soufflés? She always made those for me because I could never get them right. I'd burn them or they'd deflate too quickly or I'd forget to put in the eggs. Mum always said they were just too beautiful to live."

The Doctor took her hand, put it to his lips, and kissed it. He patted the top of her hand then and looked into those big brown eyes of hers.

"Some things are." _Not you, though. Never you, _he added in his mind. Clara smiled and she was so close to him. They were so close and they were being pulled ever closer, bit-by-bit, and for a man who has lived and has run for over a thousand years, little seconds like these seemed infinitely longer than they should have.

But a ruckus sparked at the corner of The Doctor's eyes, and a man was being held back. His mouth was being covered and there were guards who were dragging the man away. The man was struggling vehemently and before he was unceremoniously shoved into the lift – the man was able to shout one thing: "_JUST ONE MORE CUP_!"

The Doctor straightened his back and got up from the stool. Clara was about to do the same but he beckoned for her to stay still on the stool.

"Doctor, what's wrong?"

"Clara, stay right there. Stay right where you are, where I can see you."

He whipped out his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket and pointed it at the direction where the man had been dragged. The readings on his sonic didn't say much when he held it close to his face. The Doctor approached one of the nearer guards. The guard had an oddly striking resemblance to the two guards who had taken the poor man.

"Where is that man going? Where are they taking him? Why are they taking him?"

"Causing a fracas at Space Station Four is punishable by expulsion, sir. That man was causing a fracas."

"But he just wanted more tea! Did he run out of credits? Answer me!"

"You will cease from causing a fracas or you will be expelled from Space Station Four, sir." The Doctor was very close to the guard now but the guard did not flinch. His eyes seemed blank and the colour of his pupils was very nearly black. But he smelled very nice, The Doctor had to admit that. A little minty, perhaps.

"Then, we'll just have a little poke around then. Come along, Clara."

No answer.

"Clara?"

The Doctor turned around to see that Clara was no longer on the spinny stool, the spinny stool just spinning by itself. Also on the bar top, were two hot cups of tea, some jammie dodgers, fish fingers and custard and a deflated strawberry soufflé.

X X X

**A/N:** Well, if I want to write for the BBC when I grow up, I might as well take a shot at writing some Doctor Who fanfiction for practise! This is the first time I've even tried DW fanfiction so please be nice. Whouffle just makes me want to write it. I would like to thank geekalogian on Tumblr for the prompt of "largest tea shop in the universe". I hope you like it!

If you'd like to leave me more prompts for future fics, just send a message at ohmyoswinstars on Tumblr and we'll see, yeah? I'll try and update this quite soon as I don't plan for it to be very long. I hope you enjoyed it!

Reviews are cool. The bowtie-and-fez kind of cool. :-)

xx, Jonnah.


	2. Chapter 2

There were men and women and children hanging on chains.

It was the first thing Clara noticed when she woke up from being knocked unconscious. Her head was throbbing and she rubbed her temple. The room she was in was warm, she could feel the sweat already building up on her brow; the floor that kissed her skin was made of steel. There were a lot of them in that barely lit room – the lights coming from the same crystal chandeliers she had seen from the main tearoom. Only these chandeliers were a soft, diffused pearly white and cast a soft glow on the room – or floor, wherever they were. It took her a few seconds to figure out what had happened. The last thing she remembered was the tea bar and she was just about to stand to follow The Doctor.

The bar keep had come back with their food and she turned around at the sound of the tray. When she turned her head back to The Doctor, she couldn't even scream when a hand with a cloth came to her nose and she felt herself go limp at first breath. The next thing she knew, she was falling asleep as she was dragged and carried silently by the bar keep.

The darkness soon came – then the cold.

"Wha's goin' on? Where am I?" she muttered, still rubbing at her temples. When she opened her eyes and looked up – she could think of only one person. "Doctor?"

When she looked up, she saw two children looking down at her. When she looked at them, their eyes widened and they ran away from her. She got up immediately, drowsiness gone.

"Hey," she called to them, her voice the gentle tone her mother used to have. "Are you two alright?"

The children had run away from her but not very far. They just hid behind a woman with a pale face – similar to the look of the other people around her. All of others in the room had that same bleak pallor, that same open stare, and the same unmoving stance. The woman had an open mouth, drool slightly dripping out. The look on the woman's eyes felt distant, as if she were asleep with open eyes. One of the children, a little boy with cracked skin as dark as night and through the cracks looked like small gems embedded into his skin, tugged at the hem of the skirt of the woman. The woman gave no response.

Clara walked to the children slowly now, not wanting to frighten them. She moved cautiously, not wanting to touch any of the others or move them. She looked at the little boy who was still tugging at the woman's skirt and the little girl – who looked so much like the little boy that she was probably his sister – who was stealing peeks at her behind the woman's legs. Clara tilted her head at the woman then but the woman would not meet her gaze. She tried waving her hand in front of the woman's face but the woman did not even blink.

"Hello?" Clara asked, still waving. No response. Clara looked at the boy then, who was staring up at her. "Is this your mum?"

The boy stopped shaking the woman's skirts, looked at Clara, and nodded. That took Clara aback. She glanced back and forth from the children and the woman and tried to decipher how they could be related. Were they adopted, then? Were they an interspecies family? It took Clara a moment to remember that it was 2502 and maybe it was just what happened with her people after a few hundred years from what she considered her present. Considering her travelling and her strange alien companion, it didn't seem too far off.

"She's been like this since we woke up," said the little girl. "Please," the girl added. "Can you help us?"

The little girl went to Clara and took her hand when she asked for help. Clara looked at the little girl and at back at the woman. The little boy had taken a step forward, held his sister's hand, and looked up at Clara too, pleading just as much as his sister.

"I can try," Clara promised.

Still holding the girl's hand, Clara leaned in to the woman closer and stared at the woman's face and skin. Pale, murky, smooth, and a little grey – the same colour of tea with a splash of milk. When Clara breathed, the woman smelled a bit like peppermint.

"Hello?" she tried again.

With her free hand, Clara tried to shake the woman's arm in order to make the woman pay attention but Clara only jumped back in surprise at the contact. The woman straightened up then and her eyes nearly bulged out the sockets. The woman shook Clara by the shoulders and was desperately close to her face. The woman sniffed all over Clara's person and then looked her straight in the eye and said, in an eerie, drawn out voice, "_TEA?_"

"N-n-no. No. No tea." Clara swallowed and remained as still as possible, not even daring to breathe. The woman held her gaze for a few seconds longer and then dropped her arms. Her expression was blank again, the same drowsy eyes and the same open, drooling mouth.

Clara stood there for a moment in shock, the children now hiding behind her as if they were afraid of their mother's sudden movement. Clara let out the breath she had been holding and looked behind her to see the frightened children.

"What's happened to her?" the boy asked.

Clara raised the hand that she had shaken the woman with and saw that it was wet. The moisture was the same colour as the woman's skin and when she looked back, the woman's skin was rippling like slightly disturbed still water. Her palm still had the residue from the woman's skin. She held it to her face and smelled it. Clara's eyes widened and she stared at her own palm.

"Tea," she whispered.

X X X

"Where is she?" The Doctor demanded as he strutted towards the bar keep who was polishing the countertop now. The Doctor's voice was calm, controlled – cold. His hands kept rubbing together in front of him, as if trying to hold himself back.

"Sir?"

The bar keep was barely paying him attention. The tea and pastries were still there and The Doctor could not bear to look at them. He could feel the battle of heartbeats in his chest; four rhythmic and frantic beats that rung loudly in his ears. He was sucking his stomach in and gritting his teeth together. He cracked the muscles in his neck and glared at the bar keep. The guard he was talking to previously was trailing behind him as if he was waiting for The Doctor to cause a "fracas".

_Got to find Clara. Got to find Clara. Got to find Clara. Got to find-_

"Clara." Her name tasted bitter in his mouth. He had lost her again. _You're making a habit of this - _he remembered her saying - _getting us lost_. "My-" The Doctor paused, licking his lips. "Friend."

The bar keep only looked at him with those blank, black eyes. He was still for a moment and he stared at The Doctor, which made him uneasy. Still, he did not waver, he did not shake – Clara was still missing.

"Was there something else you wished to order, sir?"

The Doctor then put both his hands on the table and lifted himself on it, leaning in to the bar keep – almost nose-to-nose. The bar keep didn't even flinch, didn't even blink.

"Don't play with my patience. Don't think that even for a moment you can frighten me or distract me so make this easier on yourself and tell me where she is. Tell me where she is _now_." The Doctor's voice was a deadly, hoarse whisper. The guard from behind him then took him by the elbows and shoved him away from the bar.

"This is your second warning, sir," said the guard plainly, no threat in his tone. "Refrain from causing a fracas. Causing a fracas on Space Station Four is punishable by-"

"Expulsion, yes, I know!" The Doctor pulls his arms back and straightened his back. He scowled at the guard but the guard did not flinch either, as if he too was in a perpetual state of unhappiness, like the bar keep. The guard did not respond. He simply went back to his previous uncaring stance.

He turned around and walked towards the spinny stool he was previously sitting on. The guard was still following him like a shadow but his eyes showed disinterest as if he were half asleep. The Doctor looked around the room and saw the same plain gaze on everyone else. They were keeping to themselves, eyes concentrated only on the teas in front of them, drinking over and over again as if stuck in an infinite loop of pouring and drinking, never even waiting for the drink to cool down.

He then looked at the tea he had ordered for Clara and for himself, he watched the lazy spirals of smoke that came from the top of the cups. He took a jammie dodger and sniffed it, taking a piece of the biscuit and rubbing it between his fingers, letting the crumbs fall. He crumbled a bit of it into his tongue and immediately spit it out. He tossed the biscuit over his shoulder. He rested both his hands on the table again, bending down until his head was level with the teacups and pastries. He took a good long sniff at the tea, dipped a finger into it, and let a single drop touch the tip of his tongue. He had the same reaction.

"Hmm, that's new," he muttered to himself. "A loosely attached electronic parasite in the chemical composition of the tea and pastries – atomic in size and very nearly undetectable to anyone who ingests it. Oh-ho-ho! Well, you've got a very special tester today, haven't ya', you _beauty_? So, what are you then, ey? What do you do?"

The Doctor rose from his crouched position to see that the bar keep was staring at him in a way that made The Doctor somewhat uneasy, only to bump into the guard who was still behind him. He turned and saw that the tea drinkers were now all staring at him as well. They were slowly rising from their seats, as if to advance on him.

"Oh great," he mumbled. "The welcoming committee."

He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and scanned them all as he carefully stepped back towards the table. When he felt the table against his back, the crowd of tea drunks were already quite close, moving at a seemingly glacial pace, some of them with tea drooling out of their gritted teeth. They didn't look too dangerous but then The Doctor did see the man who got pulled into a lift so he knew better.

"Slightly menacing crowd of tea people drooling all over the place – oh, look at the muck you've all left behind! See if you get good marks on this health inspection!" The Doctor tried to side step but there were tea people already there and he stepped away quickly, his arms then fidgeting to the side as he did so. He brandished around his sonic screwdriver at them but no change. "Ah, can't figure out the right setting!"

The Doctor tried tapping his sonic screwdriver against his palm, twisting it around, and still couldn't find the proper frequency. "Oooooh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Well, I'd love to stay and chat and lecture you lot on the importance of cleanliness in the work station but that would be a lie and you're all quite threateningly walking towards me like I'm in a trap and do you know what happens when you put _me_ in a trap?"

The guard was raising his arms slowly as if to grab The Doctor. "You have been causing a fracas, sir. You must be expelled from this Space Station."

"Ah no, no, no, you still don't get it," said The Doctor, holding his sonic screwdriver near his face. "You see, you've all got me trapped. Or so you'd like to think and when people think that they've got me trapped, you know what happens?"

The Doctor pointed his sonic the chandeliers. The guards and the tea drunk crowd were reaching out to grab him. The Doctor yelled: "This!"

The claw of the sonic opened, the green light turned on, and the beautiful buzzing sound resonated across the room. Small explosions turned the lights in the chandeliers off and the room was completely dark.

When the lights turned back on, a few seconds later, The Doctor had escaped. And the table was one short of a cup of tea.

X X X

Clara and the children were in a dark corner of the prison they were in. She learned that she was in a prison soon enough when she nearly walked into an invisible electric wall. The children had pulled her away and when they told her why, she tried touching the fence, it sent a small shock through her finger and the invisible wall rippled with tiny waves of electricity.

"Okay, this is bad," she muttered to herself. What was going on? There were people who seemed to be made out of tea and mad about it, just looking blankly into nothingness. She took a deep breath, surveyed her surroundings, and nodded once. "Right then. First things first-" Clara knelt down to be level with the children who looked at her with scared crystalline eyes. "You want to tell me what your names are?"

The little girl spoke first. "I'm Amethyst 4-3-9. This is my brother Quartz 5-9-1-2."

"Hello, then. My name's Clara – Clara Oswald," she said, holding both the kids' hands. Quartz swallowed and brushed at one of his eyes. He was trying not to cry. "You want to tell me wha's goin' on? What you know?" Her tone still gentle, mimicking the calming tone her mother used to use when she was telling a story.

"We don't know." Quartz's voice broke in mid-sentence. "Our mum took us with her here to sell some sort of special crystal she's been growing. She's always wanted to go and wanted us to come with her because she likes the human tea they sell here and thought we might like it too."

"What were the crystals for?"

"Those light… things up there, I think."

"Everything was so pretty and it all smelled so nice," Amethyst continued. "Our mum was so excited that right after she sold the crystals, she wanted to try the tea. She'd only had one cup and then wanted another straightaway. I wanted to try it too but she wouldn't let me. She just kept drinking and drinking and I got really scared because soon, she started to change."

"What'd you mean '_change_'?"

Amethyst and Quartz held out their arms and showed it to Clara. "Our mum looked like us until… until she started turning into one of them."

Quartz began to cry. Clara gently pulled them to her sides until they were seated down. Their skin was rough and the cracks where the gems for which they were named for were jarred and sharp. Still, she held them and patted their arms. "'S alright now. We'll figure something out. Brave heart, Quartz and Amethyst. That's what The Doctor says."

"Doctor who?" asked Amethyst.

"Search me," she replied. The question made her smile. "But if you're going to count on anyone, count on The Doctor. If anyone can get us out of here, it's him."

"Where is he, then?" Quartz piped.

"On his way," Clara replied a little too quickly. A corner of her lips perked up into a kind of smirk.

"How do you know he's coming to help us?"

"I don't. But I know. I know he is. He's The Doctor and he'll always come and find you. That's what he_ does_."

"But we can't just sit here!"

"We're not," said Clara. "We're going to find out wha's goin' on."

"But they're going to start absorbing soon!" Amethyst hugged Clara by the waist.

"They're going to start to _what_?"

"The people in chains, over there. They're going to start absorbing soon and turn them into one those- those- those tea people!"

"What're you talking about? What do they do? What do they absorb? What happens to them?"

Suddenly, the crystal chandeliers became blindingly bright that Clara and the children had to cover their eyes from it.

"My, my, she is a curious little flavour!" a woman's voice rung out. The voice vibrated and sounded as if it were what fish sounded like underwater. Clara stood immediately. She had to blink several times to make out a shape that was coming out from the edge of the room. The people hanging on chains had not moved and she noticed that in the light, they still had some colour and some oddity to them.

"Oh and look now, my darling. There is a little tinge of fear mixed in," a man replied in the same timbre. When Clara looked, there was a couple dressed smartly, like they were on their way to a business meeting. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw their faces and swallowed back a gasp. Their faces were long and marked with wrinkles. The eyes were long ovals, taking most of their faces, and their mouths were so much like the mouths of anteaters she'd seen on the telly.

Clara tried pushing the children gently behind her, her arms trying to protect them. "Who are you?" she asked loudly. "Who are you and what are you doing to those people?"

"Bravery's a rare spice, I haven't had that as of late," the woman told the man beside her. "Could I keep this one, darling? As an evening soother?"

"I suppose we can spare one," the man replied.

"WHO ARE YOU?" Clara shouted. "What are you doing to those people? _Answer me_!"

The man chuckled and snapped his long, tentacle-like fingers twice. "Take the crystallines to the wall but save the human female for later. It's tea time."

From behind them, there were two men who had the same grey tea-skin as the others. They had nozzles on their nose with some odd brown liquid, which Clara assumed was tea, and two small tanks they were on their backs. They grabbed the children from behind Clara and she barely had time to turn around to see them. She tried to yell for them back and nearly hit the electric wall. The children yelled for her but she could do nothing.

"Let them go!" Clara yelled helplessly. "What are you doing to them?"

The two tea-men had strapped the children to a nearby wall and chained them there. The children cried for Clara and called out for help but tea-men did not budge. The woman clapped her hands and long, thin tubes fell from the ceiling – like oxygen masks on airplanes. Immediately, the chained people began to stir and reach for the tubes with their tongues. Some tea-men and women, all with the same nozzles and tea tanks, came from the shadows and put the tubes in the chained people's mouths. Two of them forced the tubes on the crystalline children. At once, brown fluid dripped from the tubes and was fed to the chained people. After a few seconds, even the crystalline children drank willingly. All the while, the crystal chandeliers flickered and glowed brighter.

"No! No, don't drink anything!" Clara tried to yell but to no avail. _Oh, Doctor. Where the hell are you? _

"You asked who we were, my dear." The couple were now near the border of the invisible electric wall. The only reason Clara knew they were at the border was because a small wave of electricity rippled when they were near it. It was the woman who was speaking. "We are Brewers – the finest Brewers in this galatic vector and soon, the Brewers in the universe."

"And what are we doing?" continued the man, who Clara assumed was the woman's husband. "The answer should be simple enough even for a primitive human mind, no matter how delectable. Why – we're feeding the livestock."

X X X

**A/N:** Oh my stars, you magnificent people!

The positive response to this fic was overwhelming and quite humbling. Thank you so much for the kind reviews you left and I'm very, very grateful to you all! I hope I do justice to this story and I fervently pray that this is a story that you all can enjoy. In my fantasies, this is a Doctor Who prose thing that I write for the BBC, if they would be so kind to hire little 'ol me.

Honestly, I just have all the muse in the world for this ship and Nightmare in Silver and that stupid, liferuining prequel just sends me over the edge. Expect an update soon enough! This story will be finished before the finale on Saturday, I promise!

Stay tuned! Review, if you would be so kind. I do love getting feedback from you all. I'll get you a gold ticket to the Spacey Zoomer if you do! Free ice cream!

xx, Jonnah.


	3. Chapter 3

_However lost you might feel, you'll never really be lost - not really. Because I will always be here and I will always come and find you._

_Every single time._

Who was looking for her now, Clara wondered. The Doctor – she knew he would be, he had to be. But he wasn't there, at least not yet; and, for a moment, Clara allowed herself to be scared - actually, properly scared. The people in chains drank their tea enthusiastically – like drowned men and women who had just had their first taste of air after so long. They even seemed to be glowing – little sparks of multi-coloured lights just seeping out of them, floating up. She followed the lights with her eyes as they were drawn in to the crystal chandelier that was still pulsing with light. The room was significantly warmer than before, she noticed. It was either that or she was simply short of breath and her palms were getting all sticky.

She hadn't heard another word from the odd alien anteater-like Brewer couple because they had left the room after laughing at their own wit. She didn't yell after them – that would have been a waste of energy and time. And it would have made her look weak – like she was begging for her life. They said bravery made them want to keep her for a little while – maybe a little bit of bravery, no matter how forced, would get her through this before she figured out how to get this ordeal sorted.

_Every single time_, her mother had said. Every single time she would get lost, Clara knew she would always be found. But she wasn't thinking of her mother when she thought of those words – she had been thinking of a brilliant, funny, mad man with a big chin and a snog box that looked at her funny. And she knew he would come and find her. If only she could find a way out herself and free those children, among the other tea people.

She couldn't get through the invisible electric fence but there was enough light to see the children that were taken from her. They were in her care and she shuddered at the sight of them no longer looking at her with fear in their eyes, they were staring at the tube and they were sucking – fear replaced by adoration in their eyes. They were staring at the tea now – their expressions the same as all the others. They were drinking and sucking – barely stopping, even to take a breath. It was like they couldn't stand even a second without it. Even after a few minutes – at least, it seemed like a few minutes – the gems that were in the cracks of their skin seemed to dim as the chandeliers flickered still.

"O… 'kay. This is bad. This very, very bad," she muttered to herself. None of the tea people seemed to be paying her any attention. "Hello? Can anyone hear me? Heeeello?"

The only sounds in the room were the echo of her voice, the sound of slurping and swallowing from the drinkers, and the low buzzing the chandeliers seemed to make whenever they flickered. When Clara received no reply, she surveyed her surroundings. She tapped at her lip with her pointer finger and pondered and paced the floor. What would The Doctor do? What would my mum do? What am I supposed to do?

She was scared – as loathe as she was to admit it. She ought to have been used to it by now, travelling with The Doctor often came with fear right in the travel packet, but there was no getting used to fear. There were only different things to be afraid of. But if there was anything constant in her travels – she was never left alone, not really. Because he would always come and find her. Every single time. And before then, she would let herself be afraid because there was no other way to be brave than to let the fear in and acknowledge it was there.

She whispered three words like a prayer as she paced in the little prison, trying to think of what to do next. Over and over again, as she thought and hoped, only three words kept her spirits up.

_Brave heart, Clara._

X X X

The Doctor opened the TARDIS door and shut it, resting his back against the doors. He let out a small sigh of relief and almost drank the tea that he was holding before he remembered what he came to the TARDIS for.

"Ey! Right then, old girl! Got to find Clara!"

He walked briskly to the main console and the TARDIS lights seemed to flicker when he neared. He stroked the console to calm and soothe her but the lights still flickered as if the TARDIS was upset. "Hey? You alright? What's gotten into you girl, ey? Come on, then. We've got to find Clara!"

He flicked on some buttons and pulled some levers expertly until a small test tube sprouted out from the fourth section of the TARDIS console. He moved the pilot's monitor to face him and began typing his commands to scan and extrapolate the contents of the tea. He rubbed at his chin as he watched the readings flash him by, processing the information faster than he can even speak it.

"Z-neutrino energy wired in to atomic electric parasites? Hmm… that's new. I _don't _like it," he started, rubbing his chin as he readings went on. He scratched the back of his head, still thinking of Clara and where she was and what she could possibly be doing, as he tried to make sense of what was in the tea. "Why would anyone want people to digest z-neutrino energy and force it into living sentient systems. Why that would dampen and alter the electrical field that holds their atoms all together – even change their chemical composition, leaving out what made them unique to thin air. But it would take an enormous amount of power unless…"

The Doctor's eyes widened and he hit himself on the forehead several times as if to chastise himself. "Oh, I. Am. Slow! Slow! I am so slow! Of course!"

He pointed the sonic screwdriver at the tea, fiddled around with it until he got the right setting, and grinned. He flicked it as he liked to do, the claw opening, and the green light telling him that he now had the frequency just right. The sound of the sonic rang in his ears and he kissed it in delight. He twirled around the TARDIS console. "Oh, you old girl! You never let me down!"

He got to the second section of the console and toggled on wheel-y bits and pressed some buttons and pulled some levers. He twirled back to the fourth station and typed at his usual speed – which was remarkable speed.

"Come on, you…" he murmured as he worked, putting in the right codes for the scanner. "She has to be here somewhere, somewhere close, somewhere in the- aha! Found you!"

He broke down the schematics of the entire space station, deciding against bringing the TARDIS into the fracas he was sure to cause. After deciding on the best sure route to the red dot he knew to be Clara, he nodded and smiled an impish little smile that spelled trouble. He did like to cause a mess and with a villain who likes tea, things were bound to get broken and spilled; and the old girl did hate getting muck on her floors. She did so dislike it when he came back home all messy and dirty – as he usually did.

"Won't be long, dear," he said, stroking at the central glass panel. "Just popping back in to work for some overtime." He put a kiss on his fingers and his fingers passed it to the console. "It's tea time!"

He practically ran back to the doors but before he opened them, he turned back, both hands in the air, pointer fingers raised. "And before I go, be a dear and make her something nice!"

He looked at the door, straightened his bowtie, thought of Clara, and smiled. "Right then,"

"Geronimo."

X X X

Clara walked to the crystalline children's mother and waved a hand in front of her again.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" she tried again but to no effect. She huffed indignantly and shook her head. She turned to look at the children again and already, their skin was turning pale, their gems dimming. She wanted to scream but that was no use here; who would hear her? She looked down and bit her finger, trying to concentrate.

"How did they take the children past the electric? There was a ripple of electricity when they went through but they weren't electrocuted by it…"

Clara put her hands on her hips and looked to the woman and back at the electric wall. Her eyes narrowed as an idea came to her and she approached the woman, very, very carefully. She tried touching the woman's arm again and the woman responded as she had before – only Clara was waiting for it.

"Tea?" the woman begged. Clara swallowed and tried to keep as calm as possible. She could feel the woman's hand on her arm, tea already dripping down to her skirt, making the red look like rust. _Blimey, that's going to be hard to clean out._

"Yes. Tea. Over here," Clara said, taking the woman's tea-hand and taking her to the wall. When the woman was at her side, she went through the wall with their conjoined hands first. There was a tingle in her skin but she was able to pass through without a scratch on her. The woman took all of the electricity in her system, her touch protecting Clara. She breathed out a sigh and even had the nerve to giggle. It worked.

She dragged the woman to the crystalline children, whose skin slowly resembled that of their mothers. There were guards next to them but they seemed to be preoccupied in trying to breathe in as much tea as possible. Clara tried to snap her fingers in front of their faces and even waved. No reaction.

"Tea?" the woman asked again. Clara turned her head, raised her eyebrows, and said: "Oh. Right."

She went to Quartz and moved to take the tea tube away from him. When she did, Quartz's eyes flashed opened and he started thrashing about, wailing for tea. Clara was so surprised that she dropped the tube and tea started spilling around everywhere. The woman grappled for it and spilled some on herself before she started sucking at it vigorously. Clara tried to soothe Quartz as best she could but all he wanted was tea – he kept screaming for it but none of the others seemed to notice. They were too enamoured with their own tea tubes.

"Shhh, quiet down now!" Clara pleaded in a whisper, her tone desperate. "They'll hear you! Oh, come on! Please be quiet! Quartz, please be quiet!"

"My, my, my." The female Brewer's voice echoed throughout the room and Clara felt a weight in her stomach – and that weight just dropped. She was in trouble and The Doctor could come any day now with that cranky, wonderful snog box of his. "Dear, me. I do dislike naughtiness. The aftertaste is so bitter."

"Never you mind, my darling," replied the male Brewer. "Absorb her in now before her flavour ripens."

The guards near the children awoke – as were all the other guards. The couple only watched as their creations went after her. Clara thought of running – but running where? The light from the chandeliers was too centralised. She saw no doors or even a possible way through all the people. Quartz was still yelling for tea and she couldn't just leave the poor boy. All the people were still under the tubes were still drinking, not a care in the world if it didn't involve their cuppa.

"No!" she yelled as a few of them managed to grab her by the arms and drag her to the nearest empty chain link. She struggled and screamed and tried to kick at them but the guards merely breathed in the tea and did as they were told. They didn't grunt or groan – the only sound that could be heard from them was the steady flow of tea in their system.

Where they touched her, tea splattered - cold tea that smelled of peppermint – on her clothes and on her skin and she daresay she might never have another cup again. It was while she was struggling and fighting that she noticed the uncanny resemblance. Each and every one of the guards looked like the bar keep from the main tea room. Even the woman, the mother of the crystalline children, was starting to lose her hair as she drank the stuff. Somehow, the tea was turning them into tea and made them addicted to it. That only made her more afraid and fight even more, chanting 'Brave heart, Clara' in her head but he still wasn't there.

When they had her at the wall and she was properly chained, a tea tube fell and Clara sucked in a breath. She tucked her lips in and tried to evade it as best she could. She ducked down but the tea-people were forcing the tube in. She could feel the drink on her skin and it smelled glorious. It smelled of her mother's English Breakfast with too much milk and honey – just the way she liked it.

Then she heard a familiar buzzing sound and she felt the tea tube fall away. Tea was spilling on the floor and the tea-people were gone. But there was quite a huge tea puddle near her feet with empty tea tanks and nozzles scattered around. Clara could breathe again and she even grinned. She knew that sound anywhere and she would even dream of it when she's safely tucked in her bed back in London. The Doctor's sonic screwdriver – which meant he was there. And she was safe - she had faith in that.

"Sorry I'm late!" said The Doctor, though she could not see him. "I didn't realise I was going to be late for the party but I seem to have lost my invite!"

"Who said that?" asked the female Brewer. Her voice was panicked in contrast to its usual coldness. The male Brewer wrapped an arm around his wife and looked around with those big black alien eyes of his.

"Doctor!" Clara yelled. "Your priorities, maybe?"

"Now, now, Clara – let's not be rude!" The Doctor danced and twirled his way next to her. A flick and point of his sonic screwdriver and her chains snapped. She fell on her feet but she nearly stumbled – she would have, if The Doctor hadn't caught her.

"Righty-o, Clara! Are you alright?" he asked, cupping her face, grinning down at her. Clara looked exasperated and she was shaking her head at him. But she was still smiling either way.

"Yeah. 'Course. Peachy keen. Now," she breathed out.

The Doctor hugged her and kissed the top of her head. He let her go but still held her hand with his free one. He pulled her with him as he stepped away from the puddle of tea on the floor. He always made the mistake of leaving her in the middle of battle. He really should stop doing that – look at the mess they got in when he did. Then again, he's been doing that for the last thousand years. Clever old man, he was. He never learns.

"Get them!" the male Brewer demanded and a platoon of more tea-people with tea tanks.

The Doctor had a glimmer in his eyes – he was confident, she could tell. The way he looked at the approaching mob of tea-people and the way he just held his sonic screwdriver near him – it was comforting and discomforting at the same time. She held his hand tighter. "And… a… very merry unbirthday to you-" he sang as he pointed to a section of the mob. Right away, they melted into tea puddles and abandoned tea tanks.

"To you,"

"To _you_!"

Clara watched, astonished and wide eyed, at The Doctor's handiwork. Those were people who were reduced to tea puddles right in front of her eyes. That and The Doctor was singing. _Singing_.

"Doctor," she said as a reproach. She pulled at his hand and pulled him nearer her. "Priorities!"

"Right!" The Doctor turned to the Brewers who had been trying to edge away, back into the darkness. But The Doctor pointed the sonic at their corner and a lock locking could be heard. Clara let go of his hand and she ran to the children. The tea had stopped running by then and they were asleep – or looked like they were sleeping. "So what are two Stravaloxi tea brewers doing in this galatic vector – turning people into tea, ey? I mean, turning electronic Z-neutrino compressors into atomic granules mixed into the tea blends that alter the chemical composition is quite ingenious – beautiful, even – but then by now you have to know that I'm going to stop you."

"These humans were honing in on our business!" the male said. "The Stravalox have always had the monopoly on the tea business in all the universe and in come these primates with their plants and tea bags and they have practically run us off the market."

"It's a business strategy, Doctor. One that you needn't interfere with!"

"Oh but you make any business something I interfere with when you interfere with people I-" The Doctor looked at Clara for a split second before he said another word, blushed, straightened his bowtie, and turned back to the Stravalox to continue his speech. "Travel with."

"So why turn them into tea?" The Doctor continued. "The atomic compressed Z-neutrino energy isn't enough to fully disperse the electronic field that holds all matter together – it would take the strength of 27 planets realigned to power that kind of baby up and believe me, I would know – so why even change their atomic structure and turn them into your little robots?"

The couple said nothing, adamantly keeping their silence, trying to look for a way out. But there was none. They were caught. Clara was still trying to free the children, he saw, and so he pointed at all the chains in the room with his sonic screwdriver, and all of those who were chained fell to the ground.

"Doctor – the children said something about the crystals in the chandeliers!" Clara yelled as she tried to wake the children up but they only murmured "tea" under their breaths.

The Doctor then scanned the crystal chandeliers at the ceiling, flicked it to extend the claw, and saw the readings they gave out.

"Oh… OH!" he said. "The Z-neutrino energy in the tea breaks down the chemical composition of the drinker and the crystal in the chandeliers are like magnets that take different nutrients in and compress it and these crystals are crushed and ground-"

"And sold by the pound across the stars, Doctor. Emotions in anything's body is a chemical warfare waiting to be harvested – or a buffet of assorted flavours if you knew your teas as well as we do," said the woman.

"So you take the chemicals of emotions from people and turn those chemicals into tea?" asked Clara from a corner. "But what happens to the people – what gets left behind?"

"You saw what happens to them, Clara," The Doctor muttered, his expression losing all the jovial energy it had before. "There's a narcotic in the electronics that make you addicted after a few gulps. It rewrites you completely and turns you into what you crave most. Once you absorb enough tea and extract enough nutrients – once they sweat all their light out - all you are is walking tea, held together by a electric force."

The Doctor looked around him and up at the ceiling. An idea came to him and some of the light in his eyes came back.

"But then now that you've gone and told me that, you know what happens next?"

The Doctor gave Clara a look and luckily enough, she was looking at him then. He gestured for her to come to him and she Clara ran to his side and held his hand. With his other hand, he raised his sonic screwdriver to the ceiling and with a flick, the chandeliers sparked and millions upon millions of twinkling lights fell and were absorbed by those who were chained and to those who were still standing.

Some of those who were standing were approached by the little lights but then the lights flew away and they were reduced to tea puddles. Most of the people who were not yet fully absorbed and extracted returned to their regular state. Clara looked to the crystalline children and saw that their mother was returning to the cracked, rock-like skin she probably was before – bright red gem stones in her cracks. _Ruby, then,_ she thought.

But before Clara could even run to them and be happy for the little crystalline family, The Doctor had dragged her away and made her run with him.

"Doctor, what's-"

"The Stravalox, come on!"

The Doctor and Clara ran in the semi-darkness as the crystals were now too dim to offer as much light as they did before but they ran. The clicking of the woman's heels against metal gave them enough away that The Doctor was able to hear where they were going. When they got to the door, The Doctor found that the door had been deadlocked when he tried to open it with his sonic screwdriver.

"Wha's happenin'? Where are they?" asked Clara, trying to catch her breath.

"I don't-" The Doctor started but then a red flashing light started blaring above the door and in all his years of wisdom, red flashing lights never meant anything good. He tried as best he could to open the door but it wouldn't budge. And when it did open, there was ahead of them was an observation deck. Only there was a large chute in the middle of the glass pane that could possibly open wide enough to send anything that was in the room out into open space.

"Oh no," The Doctor whispered. He swallowed and looked out the window and saw the Stravaloxi couple, holding each other, as they floated.

"Doctor, what- what happened to them?" she asked as she crept nearer, still trying to absorb what had happened.

"They caused a fracas," he explained. He held her hand before he looked out at the deceased couple one last time. "And they expelled themselves."

X X X

A/N: Okay so… writing action/science-y scenes in story form is not my cup of tea. It's so exciting in head but translating it into words, which is my job, is really freaking hard. I need to practise on this form some more. Writing them in screenplay format is much easier but this? I never realised how difficult it would be and it's not my forte. So I'll admit that this chapter isn't as great as I thought it would be but let's just pretend that everything makes sense, yes? At least, I hope everything makes sense and maybe some of you enjoyed it even a little bit? If I had at least one person even slightly scared of tea because of this story then I'd call that a job well done. I really hope you enjoyed my first Doctor Who adventure and maybe stick around for some future ones?

Again, thank you so much for the fantastic and positive reviews! You're all such lovely people and I truly don't know how to react to you lot. I blush easier than The Doctor, honestly.

This story's more or less done – save the epilogue, which will be up shortly. Perhaps an hour or two after this chapter is uploaded.

Reviews might get you an actual whoufflé, if you get my meaning! ;)

xx, Jonnah.


	4. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

X X X

It took a nice long shower to get the scent of tea out of her nose.

The water had been delectably cool but she could not shake the feeling of tea dribbling on her skin throughout it. It should have been comfortable but all Clara could think about were those people reduced to puddles. She could even taste it still when she swallowed, despite her never having tasted it.

Ruby and her crystalline children were all alright. Ruby, as it turns out, was the Sultana of a planet called Kristala, several hundred million light years away. The Stravalox have always been clients of the Kristallines – their special crystals were used for absorption and compression, but never had they been used with Z-neutrino energy and electric things, among other alien technology things that made Clara's head spin. She didn't really know how to make sense of it other than what the Stravaloxi couple was doing was illegal – obviously – and not something their entire race did.

UNIT had taken over the Space Station as soon as The Doctor managed to call up the local force – it was an Earth based station, after all. It was in their division to fix everything. Despite winning, she still saw people literally melt in front of her eyes. Not everyone survived the reabsorption process.

"Saved another world again, ey?" The Doctor had said when they returned to the TARDIS.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure," she had replied. But still, winning didn't always feel like winning.

The Kristalline children had thanked her, gave her some of their gems even. She wanted to say no but The Doctor said that refusal of a gift from the royal family of Kristala was a high offence that could possibly wage a war against the entire human race and that was when Clara shushed him and told him to be quiet. She took the stones, gave them a hug, and waved to them as they ran to their mother.

The whole day had been a mess of emotions. It was sad and happy and brilliant and scary. Just another day with The Doctor.

When she left the shower she had found, she was overwhelmed by the scent of burning coming from somewhere in the TARDIS and it was relatively near where she was. Common sense told her to find her way back to the main console and tell The Doctor that there was a fire going on in his ship. Another voice told her that maybe The Doctor had set himself on fire.

The latter seemed more probable.

She walked and followed her nose as she tried to find where the fire had come from. The corridors seemed brighter, though. Maybe the old snog box was starting to warm up to her. Either way, she wasn't particularly in the mood to get snippy with the TARDIS. She's had a full day and the last thing she needed was to put out some sort of alien fire that might probably require some alien water ritual or something.

What she didn't expect was the familiar sound of clanking metal – pots and pans.

"Oi! That is not supposed to happen!" she heard The Doctor yell a few rooms down. Clara practically ran to the door and saw something so odd that she never expected it in the TARDIS of all places.

It was a run of the mill English kitchen – not the claptrap of some big alien kitchen with stoves the length of townhouses or something. It was just a neat little kitchen – kind of like the one she used to have back home. There was black smoke coming from the oven and The Doctor was waving about his arms – honestly, it looked like a drunk giraffe who was doing "the worm" dance while standing up – trying to get the smoke out.

His face was scowling and he had a mess of black stuff on his nose that rather made him look like a chimney sweep from Mary Poppins. He was also wearing an apron. With lace trimmings.

"Doctor?" she called out. She was standing by the door, leaning on the doorframe. Her hair was in short braided pigtails. She was adorable – so adorable that he grinned, both hands in the air. One hand was holding a wooden spoon, the other a whisk.

"Oh! Hello there, Clara!" He was still waving about the smoke as if he were thrusting it away, trying to create his own hurricane to blow the smoke away. Maybe he could even control the wind a little bit. With all she knew – and didn't know – about The Doctor, it wasn't that far off.

"What are you doing?" She had her "serious face" on but by all her mother's stars, she was trying so hard not to laugh.

"Just a mo'. Just trying to-" The Doctor gave the poor oven a kick and it stopped belching smoke. The Doctor sighed in relief, wiped the sweat off his brow with his arm, and smiled at her. "You had a bad day. Thought you might like a strawberry soufflé. Hey, that rhymed – good, eh?"

Clara stared at him for a few seconds then her lips trembled and then she giggled so freely and laughed so beautifully that The Doctor just stood there, set the spoon and whisk down, and watched her be happy. Sunrise to sunset – she was still so beautiful.

She walked over to the oven and inspected it. She let out a cough before she took a pair of cooking gloves by the sink and took out the well-burnt strawberry soufflé.

"Very nearly, Doctor," she finally said. "I suppose it was just too beautiful to live."

The kitchen was a mess and she really shouldn't be surprised. The Doctor was a hurricane all on his own person and it's no wonder why it was so easy to sweep her off her feet. There were eggshells all about and batter spilled around everywhere. The Doctor was never one for neatness but the gesture was very sweet.

"I think it's still edible?" The Doctor's statement sounded like a question. His hands were nervously rubbing against his chest as he tried to move around her and see what her expression was. She turned around and took off the gloves and set them on the table. She jumped at him and hugged him, her arms around his neck.

"Oh, hugging, yes! I like hugging!" he said, holding him to her in such a tight embrace that she was off the floor. He twisted her around and he could feel her giggle, her lips now on his neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

He felt her pull away and he set her down on the floor. What he wasn't expecting when he set her down was the quick kiss she planted on his cheek right after. He straightened his back, stepped back in surprise, and put a hand on his cheek.

"Ey?" He was grinning and he could feel that he was blushing. Clara was looking at him like the saucy minx that she was and he knew she was teasing him. He straightened his bowtie, smirked, and said, "Shut up."

X X X

**A/N:** And that's it! That's the end!

I feel astonishingly proud of myself as this is actually the first multichapter fic I've actually finished. I really, truly hope that you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it and learning it! The Doctor and Clara are such wonderful characters to ship and play with and I absolutely loved writing for them! I'm excited to get back to them as next on my list is a whoufflé AU of Beauty and the Beast and I've got another idea with whoufflé and the origin of the soufflé. So stay tuned – you'll definitely be hearing more from me. I love this ship and I need whoufflé to be canon like I need air to breathe.

To suggest more whoufflé recs for me – just go to ohmyoswinstars on Tumblr and leave me a six-word prompt in my ask box. Thank you so, so, so very much for taking the time to read this story and it means the world to me that you've all been so lovely.

Reviews help Clara judge the snog box! Also, they make me happy and keep me motivated to write. I'll see you all very soon! (If the finale doesn't kill me.) :)

xx, Jonnah.


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